


the magic pie trip

by JamtheDingus



Series: Shunk Week 2k19 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Magic, Baking, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Longing, M/M, P I E, Shunk Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-07 11:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/pseuds/JamtheDingus
Summary: Hunk was kind of a special one, see. He's able to infuse the food he makes with the emotions he feels— though he can never control the outcome no matter how hard he tries.Mostly he focused more on the method than the magic, and it usually turned out pretty alright.But today is special.---(Or, Hunk makes Shiro a pie.)Day 1 of Shunk Week 2k19.





	the magic pie trip

**Author's Note:**

> i kno this wasn't au day but i kinda Inspired by the movie 'like water for chocolate' so if you've seen it you can definitely see where i took the magic inspiration from lmao

Fresh rain water drips off the awning of Hunk's back porch, and the fresh breeze that passed by the open door brings with it the gentle, clean scent of spring. Wet and pollinated and fully of the warmest, fuzziest feelings.

Hunk hums a soft melody, kneading sticky dough along to the rhythm until the mixture stops trying so hard to cling to the curves between his fingers.

Every so often, he can feel the electric current of magic sprinkle off of his skin to soak into the pie dough, pale wisps of... _something_ dusting all along the surface to be kneaded in with the rest. Hunk can only keep his proverbial fingers crossed that it makes the finished product taste even better than how he feels making it.

Hunk was kind of a special one, see. He's able to infuse the food he makes with the emotions he feels— though he can never control the outcome no matter how hard he tries. Sometimes when he gets too deep in his brain, a warm bowl of chicken stock turns out tasting like soured garlic and freezer-burned meat.

Or, when he'd first notice his little party trick, he'd tried concentrating his _hardest_ on thinking and feeling only every good thought there is to be thought. Those batches, no matter how beautifully browned his butters were or how delicately perfect his icing flowers turned out, tasted blank— like nothing at all.

After that, he'd tried not to worry so hard. He focused more on the method than the magic, and so far it usually turned out pretty alright. But today is special.

There's a forest dividing his valley in half, like a mountain had melted and spread, but left the trees behind, and there was a special someone waiting for him on the other side— his knight-in-training.

Shiro.

Not that Hunk was noble or rich in the slightest— but Shiro always did like it when Hunk called him his, and honestly? Hunk got all fluttery, too.

The journey would take less than two days, accounting for sleep and depending on the weather, but Hunk had a good feeling. He hadn't been able to send a letter to announce his upcoming arrival, because there had been a huge thunderstorm ravishing the isle for days, but Shiro's last letter had forlornly mentioned Hunk's magically-infused pies fondly.

 _They tasted like home_ , it had said. _They tasted like you._

Which, sue Hunk for being so dramatic but he'd had to put the letter down and bounce around his little cottage for a while after reading that line.

Thus, his little surprise idea of showing up with one of those pies Shiro so dearly missed— presented by the fiancé he'd hopefully been missing just as much.

Fiancé-to-be, technically. Shiro had promised him a ring once he'd finished his training. It had flustered Hunk to no end once he'd received _that_ letter, too, but most of the letters left him red in the face with a palpitating heart.

Well— okay, all of them did. Especially when he held it to his face and smelled the telltale hint of Shiro on the pages— and as he imagined him taking time out of his busy days and nights just to let Hunk know he was thinking of him.

Hunk kneads the dough a little longer than necessary as he ducks his head down to hide his grin from the dustbunnies and the little spiders hiding in the nooks of his cottage.

The pie ends up baking nicely, golden and shiny all across the top. The hints of colors peeking past the lattice is enough to make Hunk's mouth water, and _he's_ the one who made it. The little, leafy designs he'd cut out of extra dough to design the sides and middle with sit proud atop the criss-crossed patterns beneath, and Hunk has to hurry to wrap it before he can't resist taking a small slice.

First it's wrapped in a large cloth, tied in a neat bow at the bottom as not to ruin the lattice, and then he sticks it into a leather satchel to protect it from the elements.

He didn't have a chance to taste it because of his excitement and his little flustered episode, but he'd make sure it atleast arrived in one piece, awful-tasting or otherwise.

The pie would last the day and a half long trip, definitely. Hunk just hopes the magic will, too, because he has a rather telling feeling that it's a good one this time.

 

\---

 

 

Hunk laces his boots, locks the cottage door behind him, and doesn't take a single look back as he follows the road down down to the middle of the valley. It isn't a rigid incline, and it's so early that barely anyone is out, so hunk is able to fully take in the happy surrounding him in the air.

The birds chirp as they forage food for their newly hatched babies, and the breeze brings with it bumble and honeybees alike.

A few circle his hat once or twice, curiously poking their faces into the fake flower pinned to the hem, and Hunk gets distracted for about five minutes trying to shoo them away without making them angry.

As soon as he's able to escape the curious insects, he hurries to hide the flower in his shirt pocket— atleast until he leaves town.

With that time wasted, Hunk continue on, following the road all the way to the edge of the forest. Brick and stone gives way to stamped down dirt, a clear lead to the way towards Shiro— a mauve-toned beacon.

Hunk tightens the straps on his bag, checks his boot laces, and disappears between the tree trunks.

 

 

\---

 

 

The journey isn't quite a long one, but it sure gets boring only an hour in. He'd be able to walk it in one day if he didn't shamble on so slowly, to be honest— and if he wasn't so shy about showing up dirty. He'd planned accordingly to stop at a nearby town and take a bath just before he reached Shiro.

Still, though, it was _boring._ Going over his plans again and again bored him to tears after the fifth time, and bird watching was only profitable when one was able to tell the difference between tree leaves and bird wings from far away.

 

 

\---

 

 

His foot cramps two hours in, so he has to rest by a nearby river. When he takes a bite of jerky from his snack-bag, he catches a whiff of the pie.

After that, he gets so excited thinking of Shiro— of his smile and his laughter and of his beautifully shy blush that he gets when Hunk kisses across his knuckles— that he shoves the rest of his snack down his throat and hurries to massage away the ache in his foot to get back on the road as soon as he can.

 

 

\---

 

 

The rain starts, four hours into the journey. Everything prior had been uneventful, and so Hunk had been expecting the light drizzle that popped up to be as well. But then the lightning started, and after the lightning followed the thunder, and then the downpour.

It soaked through his jacket, then through his socks. Then through his undergarments— and that's when he knew he was in trouble. He finds a spot to sit in under a lot, even though it's occupied by mushrooms and snails and a couple of dandelions, and has to just wait.

It takes two hours to dissipate into a lighter sprinkle, but by then Hunk has accidentally fallen asleep.

He wakes up _another_ two hours later, and the moon waves hello as he crawls out of his hiding space. A rabbit startles and runs away as he trips over himself in the soaked mud, but he's able to recover enough that only his shins get caked in the dirty.

 

 

\---

 

 

A couple more hours pass, where nothing much happens except Hunk loses track of the time, except then... then he gets lost.

The moon disappears behind the mountain, and the sun comes back around it again. By then, he's a couple miles off from his original path, having gotten so lost in thought that he'd hardly even noticed he'd followed the wrong fork in the road.

He only notices now because he jabs his foot right in a river, overflowing with the sudden rain from earlier that night, and he ends up losing one of his shoes in the sweeping current.

He's only so lucky that he didn't take a wider step, else he (and his pie!) would have gotten lifted off, too. If it was strong enough to steal his tightly-tied boots right off his feet, he doesn't want to _think_ of what it'd do to pie crust.

He has spare sandals in his bag, so he takes his remaining boot off and uses the river to slough off as much mud as he can, shaking away the rest of the muck before he stuffs it at the bottom of his travel bag. He secures the pack back on his back, wriggling his freed toes in their new homes, and turns right back around to find the _right_ path.

Hunk doesn't let the loss of his favorite shoe bother him— because he's eager to see Shiro take that first bite of pie and watch him get all mushy and lovey and maybe he'll be able to steal a kiss or two. It's all he can focus on, and it's all he needs to stay motivated.

 

 

\---

 

 

And, seventeen hours later after he'd started, Hunk arrives. Just like that.

His hat is gone, lost to a tree branch the spears it right through the middle and rips it clean off his head, and his pants are ripped on the bottom left side. The fake flower he'd stuffed in his pocket looks wilted as a sort of mascot to the ragged owner it was pinned to, weathered down to a handful of jagged petals.

Hunk looks a mess, but he tries not to feel like one.

"Positive attitude." Hunk sighs, rolling his shoulders as the canopy of thick tree leaves starts giving way to blue sky and unfiltered yellow sunlight. It was about noontime, if he was gauging time correctly, and Shiro should be either on his lunch break or coming home for it shortly.

Hunk dusts the dried mud off himself, picking twigs from his hair. He knows Shiro would be happy seeing him no matter what state, but he doesn't want him to worry.  The trip was a breeze, other than... you know, everything.

Hunk stretches his arms up high, grinning in anticipation of finally _finally_ being able to throw his arms around the love of his life and hug him tight after the long long months of _not_ seeing him, which were now justified from the arduous trip, and squares himself as he finally steps out onto the gravel laden path of Shiro's town.

It's not much different from Hunk's town, honestly. The air was filled less with the sound of blacksmitheries, and more with swords-and-swords, but metal being beaten sounds similar enough that Hunk is able to relax further he gets down the road.

In one of Shiro's letter, he'd described a huge apple tree, right at the other end of town, that served as the entrance to the barracks provided to knights-in-training. He'd said that his own was the closest to said tree, and that he'd always sneak out to steal a couple apples in the middle of the night instead of waiting for rations to be server.

Hunk had hoped an apple pie wouldn't feel a bit redundant, but it's much too late to second-guess.

The crown of the tree greets him as he turns a corner, and, in his excitement, Hunk begins to jog the rest of the way. He's careful to keep a steady pace, because he'd come _this_ fair with a fairly undamaged baked good and karma would be some sort of cruel mistress if he'd ruined it as soon as Shiro opened the door with that big goofy grin on his face.

And, you know, one must assume karma doesn't like being called names. As if someone had heard his thoughts and splashed an invisibility potion on themselves just to play a trick on him, Hunk stumbles. He stumbles and then he trips over a thick root protruding from the apple tree.

He finds himself upended, face-planting into the pounded-thin gravel, and it takes longer for the scratches to register as 'painful' than it does for the alarm to set in over him squashing his pie.

Because, as he'd gone flying, the pie went along with him. It'd splatted against the rocks, that much Hunk is certain, and his only bit of luck in the moment is that the only people around to see it were the horses and a streetcat basking in the sun.

He rolls up onto his knees, hissing as he checks his nose to make sure it isn't broken.

It's tender, yes, but still attached. As are the rest of his limbs— which meant the worst thing hurt on him were his feelings.

Hunk stumbles to his feet, brushing dust from his eyelashes, and immediately spots the satchel housing the precious pie, upside down and resting flat against the earth.

He scrambles over faster than a frightened mouse to its hidey-hole, and prays to every being in the sky that all this effort— all of this troublesome no good terrible adventure— wasn't wasted after one silly fall.

He keeps his eyes closed as he unlatches the bag, and keeps them closed as he unwraps the pie. He takes a deep breath, though he knows it's useless to calm himself. Logic dictates that the events transpiring led to a clear outcome, but Hunk could pretend, right?

When he finally opens them up, his eyes that is, his heart breaks. It wasn't the perfect pie it had been, certainly, but the fall had definitely been the worst of it.

Hunk stares at it as he stumbles to Shiro's hut— much closest to the tree by a couple yards.

He drops onto the wooden porch, which just had the barest hint of wood rot around the edges from all the rain the last couple months, and lets the pie rest in his lap. The tin is cold— had lost its warmth days ago, surely— and while the internals were pretty alright, the crust was mushed and mixed and mashed, unable to be discerned from the filling it was meant to be covering. The little details were all but lost.

It looked like someone had jammed their thumb straight through and wiggled it around a bit, just to be mean. Karma.

He thumbs along the crumbled leaves circling the edges, and lifts up the bits that fall off right onto his fingers, letting it drop into his mouth.

As he tries the bite, he can't help the sorry tears that well up and drip past his palm to soak into the even sorrier dessert. The filling tastes just as good as he gathers it up in his grubby little hands— filled with love that warms him up from the inside out and surrounds him in what he can only describe as the most tender hug.

The flavors melt into something he can't even register as 'tasty', but more as a feeling that sweeps him up and lifts him away, circling around and around his soul like a loving kiss pressed to a temple. He can _f e e l_ the magic soaking in, coursing through his veins to soak into his lungs and make him breath in deep, cherishing every moment until it dissipates.

All of it reminds him of Shiro.

He tries not to let himself wallow, then, and instead stands. He drops the cloth back on the pie to hide the worst of it. When he lifts his hand to knock, though, someone circles around the corner and perks up at the muddy, crusty stranger at one of their brother-in-arms' doors.

"Hey!" They say, as friendly as can be what with them being covered in shining silver armor with a broadsword hooked over a shoulder. "Shirogane's out of town, I'm afraid."

They gesture to the pie, snickering under their breath. It sounds tinny and small hidden beneath their helmet. "I'm sure he would've loved it, though. Said he was off to eat as many of those as he can stand."

Another someone sticks their head out a nearby window, only half put together in iron. Seems like everyone knew everyone, here. "Also said something about eloping with that fiancé of his, didn't he? Bet that'll be a surprise to that Hunk fellow."

The two junior-knights seem jolly enough as the devolve into a conversation with one another, all while Hunk startles and stays stock still. Half because— wow, Shiro had told people about him and actually mentioned wanting to marry him and it wasn't all talk, wow! Not that Hunk hadn't told _his_ half of the isle (because he had. Many times.) but... wow!!

The other half is because of the pie sitting sadly in his palms and boiling in his guts.

Well. It'd been a long journey, and Hunk had tried his best. Maybe he could just send Shiro the recipe instead.

"Thank you." Hunk says with a nod of his head.

He circles back the way he came and disappears back along the treeline. The pie splatters into a pointed star pattern as he scrapes it out of the tin to fertilize one of the bushes as he passes.

 

 

\---

 

 

Thirty-four full hours pass from when he'd started, plus tax because he'd fallen asleep in a log again. Hunk stumbles to his cottage, the moon out behind him. The beams weigh down heavy at his eyelids as he threatens to pass out where he wobbles down the dirt road.

He's nearly forgotten about the pie-that-was until his bare feet— because his sandals had broken on the way back— slide across a leather cape as he steps up to his front door, and someone chokes as it proceeds to clinch their neck.

Hunk jumps back a couple dozen inches as the person sits up, rubbing sleep from their eye.

A burst of white reflects moonlight back at him, and Hunk immediately wakes up at the sight of Shiro, just as muddy and dirt-caked as Hunk was, sitting as his doorstep. His hair looks like muted stardust, even though it's stained with pollen in some places.

Shiro is only able to get out one sleepy, "Hunk?" because he's being gathered up and every huff of air is squeezed out of his lungs in the tightest hug that could physically be mustered.

So trapped in the bear hug as he was, Shiro can only barely hug him back, but he proceeds to smother Hunk's cheeks in loving kisses nonetheless. "I was surprised to see you gone so long. Went to sell some desserts, I hope?"

When Hunk lets him go, Shiro shifts even closer. He gathers Hunk's cheeks in his palm and kisses them both one last time before he pulls back to stare him in the eyes. When tears overflow and catch at his thumb, he cleanly wipes it away. "Love?"

"I missed you." Is the first thing Hunk says. The second thing, which kind of runs into the thing in a jumbled mess, is, "I made you a pie."

Shiro takes him in, then. Fully. Double-caked in mud and sweats, and also in both fresh and old tears, with no shoes and a bird's nest of a hair-do.

His shoulders drop— not sadly, but almost in awe. "You— went to visit me?"

Hunk's laugh comes out like a snort, and he buries his face against Shiro's shoulder. "I did. Guess you and I share the same brain, hm?" Shiro's missing a boot, too. What silly, lovesick idiots they were.

His fingers brush along Shiro's skin, dusting away some of the pollen coating him from the spring flowers surrounding Hunk's home. "Were you here for long?"

"Only a day."

They must have missed eachother going down the path, then. Hunk has an inkling it's when he got lost— but the stress of remembering the trip is easily overshadowed and overpowered by the joy in knowing that Shiro had braved the same forest expedition _he_ did, just because he missed Hunk as much.

Shiro fusses over Hunk's scratches and bruises as they finally stumble into the house together, and Hunk makes sure to smooch him right across the lips for it as Shiro gathers him up in his arms and sets him on the couch, to be cuddled and coddled all night long if need be.

(And need _certainly_ be, thank you very much.)

In the morning, they'll both regret not taking baths as soon as they were able, but in the middle of the night when Hunk is busying basking ins his now-official-husband-to-be's love, he doesn't care about the filling dried beneath his fingernails.

Shiro's hugs felt so much better than the magic in his pie, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> [ check out shunk week on twitter](https://twitter.com/shunkweek2k19)!!!!!
> 
> i tried to experiment with a different style w/ this one (like.... making it feel a bit more simple i guess??? it was hard!!!) idk How much i'll write like this in the future, but for this fic it was super fun to try not to Over-Explain things like i usually do
> 
> i Also tried to make the writing feel less Serious? like i wanted this to not read super angsty, i suppose. ANYWAY I HOPE U LIKED IT, thanks for checking it out!!!!!


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